section7mfu | Continuing with Chapter 2.

With heartfelt thanks to mrua7 for praise, encouragement and beta skills.
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Link to Chapter 1 http://archiveofourown.org/works/2563967/chapters/5701682

Chapter 2

The mission he had been on three days prior had been a simple one. He and his partner, Napoleon Solo were to check out an abandoned building next to the interstate in nearby Montville,NJ.

It was thought the dilapidated barn was a clever storage facility for T.H.R.U.S.H.’s latest project. T.H.R.U.S.H. believed no one would suspect the hundred year old building was being used for such a purpose but that was surmised by U.N.C.L.E.’s Intelligence Section.

Napoleon and Illya easily captured three enemy agents and wounded two others.

A cleanup team responded quickly and the affair was over almost before it had even begun. Illya remembered thinking they should all be so easy.
Their report on the affair was written, typed up by the secretarial pool and on Waverly’s desk before the end of the workday.

Successful missions always elevated the mood of the somber Ukrainian and he celebrated along with Napoleon at their favorite watering hole.

Kuryakin recalled the conversation they shared over dinner; crisp Caesar salad made with classic dressing and juicy Porterhouse steak served on sizzling hot platters with a side of baked potato swimming in melted butter and sour cream. And what would be a celebration without dessert? Warm cheddar crusted apple pie topped with vanilla bean ice cream rounded out their perfect meal.

“Any mission that ends with your trousers intact is a good mission,” Illya mused.

“Any mission that ends with ‘us’ intact is a better mission, partner mine,” Napoleon countered.

Solo made a toast raising his glass of scotch.

“Mr.Kuryakin. To undamaged trousers and agents who wear them.”

“Here, here, Mr.Solo.” He raised his own glass of vodka and smiled.

They left the restaurant with Illya holding a pilfered slice of apple pie in a doggie bag that a pretty waitress had slipped to Napoleon; instead Solo kept her phone number in his pocket.

Good food and the company of a friend made the evening pleasurable.

That was three days prior...today was Monday.

“Black Monday,” Illya moaned to himself. “No- black Friday. That’s the day it happened,” he recalled.

He struggled to stand and walked slowly to the living room window, opening it to let in the breeze, but he did not feel it. Dark rain filled clouds were rolling in but he didn’t see them. There were loud traffic noises two stories below but he didn’t hear them.

Vodka was the only thing on the Ukrainian’s mind and he retrieved the ice cold bottle of Stolichnaya from the freezer.

Sinking down into the couch he broke the seal and opened it, a second later he took a long swallow.

“What have I done?”

To Be Continued.